


Flames of the Forge

by Hambone



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Hidden Feelings, M/M, Sticky Sex, Taunting, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They consider it battle, and for good reason. Still, it is both a truth and a lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flames of the Forge

**Author's Note:**

> Request for crazydecepticonfan on my Tumblr! Enjoy!

“I have great respect for you as a warrior.”

Predaking pushed his hand down harder, grinding his prey’s face into the rust beneath them.

“Do not mistake this as forgiveness for your crimes.”

Ultra Magnus could not speak, but he grunted harshly into the claws that tugged his jaw shut. He did not take the opportunity to bite, and Predaking was almost disappointed by it. He was not the type.

“You are not here to beg for mercy though, are you?”

He already knew the answer, but asking the question was a necessary step. Neither would admit to what passed between them in these dark moments, but they both knew, intimately, and some ceremony was required to hide it. He could pretend all he wanted that he was innocent of Ultra Magnus’s feelings on the subject, but he wasn’t. The beast in him was aware of it likely before his cognitive brain had caught up with the concept. The Decepticons that had held him had considered his beast mode his weakness, in some respects, his more controllable form, but his predatory side was truly what gave him the advantage above others.

The scientist who had birthed him, bright and confused, from his primordial test tube, he had recognized its true worth. While Predaking’s memories of his early days alive were muddled at best, he remembered Shockwave, and he remembered the respect he had had for his true form’s power. Respect was perhaps not the best word for the expression but Predaking, like all others, presumably, could not pin down the exact flow of the scientist’s feelings, the fleeting few he had. He did know that Shockwave understood, however, and it had meant something, regardless of how twisted and illogical it was.

Ultra Magnus understood too and that was why he always came back. Managing to spit the fingers from his lips long enough to speak, he made his positon in the game clear.

“I do not ask for forgiveness or want it.”

“Good.”

Predaking pushed hard against his back, letting the Autobot feel the heat from his chest as flame licked along the inside of his throat, a threat he would not hesitate to follow through on if their relationship slipped down one side or the other of the line between dangers, a fear they both shared. He was not alone in this display of dominance, though, as his other wrist was currently being squeezed to the point of denting within the grasp of Ultra Magnus’s prosthetic. As curls of plating pushed back against his arm, Predaking smiled.

They were built for battle, not sensuality, but Ultra Magnus managed to slide his hips back with a grace unbefitting of his title. Snarling, Predaking would not indulge him, pulling them both back upwards into a sitting position and holding him at an arm’s length. The grip on his wrist became brutal.

“You dare?”

Grunting as Predaking’s grip raised from his back to his throat, Ultra Magnus remained stern.

“You hold no rightful authority over me.”

It was both a challenge and a truth. Predaking appreciated that he did nothing to hide the edge of superiority in his voice. It was always easier when they could remember their hatred for one another.

“I hold authority over what I choose to. You are no exception.”

Ultra Magnus struggled, but only just, half sloping into the Predacon’s lap. He kicked at the ground as if he didn’t want to be there but Predaking kept shaking and shifting him, their strengths almost evenly matched but their desires in perfect alignment. Just to emphasize his point, Predaking pulled on his neck, hard, and the Autobot tumbled the rest of the way to him. It was not difficult, then, to reposition his arm around Ultra Magnus’s waist, pinning him again to the fire in his chest. He growled between his jagged teeth, Ultra Magnus’s audio receptor swinging closer as he half-writhed in his grip.

Bracing himself against Predaking’s thighs, Ultra Magnus surged back, pressing his aft against the king’s lap with little to no shame or prelude. It was time enough. His hand squeezed deep lines into Predaking’s wrist and thin lines of blue energon trickled down between his fingers.

“Prove it.”

He did not need to say anything else. Predaking snarled, yanking him down hard until they were both acutely aware of the heat between then, not just born of his beast fire but from something far deeper. Ultra Magnus grunted again, not quite a moan but not too far from one, and moved back against him harder still. they could not, would not loosen their hold on one another, but they moved together all the same, both gnashing their teeth and pushing their hips as though this really were battle and not an elaborate mockery of foreplay.

Digging his heel back into Predaking’s knee, Ultra Magnus flipped himself. Claws screeched across his chest and he yelled in pain but also in triumph, now facing the Predacon, still twisting his arm inside his three fingered hand. Predaking spat a short insult and Ultra Magnus silenced him with the clashing of their chests, hips pushing together with renewed vigor.

They did not kiss, but they bit, Predaking particularly. He was doing so now, lips and teeth clamped around Ultra Magnus’s thick neck with sloppy admiration, the cables taught and strong between his jaws. The Autobot had him by the throat too, though not with mouth but hands, holding him hard enough to only promise a choke rather than deliver. It did not make the promise any less real. Predaking grinned.

He wanted to speak but was cut off as Ultra Magnus abruptly slid back his lower plating, fat spike expanding to rest comfortably between their stomachs. Hissing, Predaking observed his wry smile.

“I asked you to prove it, solider.”

He could have laughed at the attempt at demeaning him, or perhaps it was some bizarre pet name; either way, he chose to thrust up with his own hips, spike responding in kind. The rules of the game shifted, though only slightly, to offensive rather than defensive. Ultra Magnus bucked himself into a better position so that their equipment rubbed together, the smooth Autobot metal catching rough on the sharp angles of Predaking’s spike. In a half thought out rush for power, they both wrapped their fingers around them at the same time, Predaking’s massive claws managing to dwarf even Ultra Magnus’s wide hand.

“You speak as though I were not already.”

Coaxed on by the excitement and the violence, prefluid already drizzled down between them, making the movements easier. Predaking gnashed his teeth but Ultra Magnus was the one to go in for the kill, mouthing against the broad chest before him. The motion was slow but their bodies heaved with the effort, as if holding back was what bought them the most pleasure of all. Predaking’s vents blew billowing clouds of smoke and steam over their heads and he laughed again as Ultra Magnus shuttered his optics, biting particularly hard into his chest.

Every time one of his claws caught against their spikes they would both jump, and Ultra Magnus would slide their hands faster in retribution. It was unclear whether they were striving to finish first or hold out longest, so they did both, pushing against one another like unruly hatchlings. Predaking cackled with pride as he felt a wash of heat between them, but while Ultra Magnus’s spike still pulsed in his hand he realized the sensation was lower. Lubricant seeped out across their folded legs, pearlescent and gleaming against their bio lighting.

He half expected the Autobot to be embarrassed, but when he looked up Ultra Magnus met his optics with cool clarity, challenge apparent.

Nothing needed to be said.

Predaking lunged and Ultra Magnus let him, the pair tumbling down to the cool surface of their world. He was in between the Autobot’s legs in moments, snuffling and licking his way through the mess there. Ultra Magnus chuckled haughtily and Predaking nipped the base of his spike, still in control of the situation. His tongue was sharper than any modern counterpart, stronger, and he lapped long strokes across Ultra Magnus’s swollen valve and was rewarded by a shaking moan. When he swallowed his still leaking spike the reaction was even stronger.

“Hmm…!”

Ultra Magnus might have been trying to speak, or trying to stop himself from doing so, but either way his voice fizzled into a deep rumble as Predaking allowed his jagged teeth to just barely graze his spike, two claws teasing the entrance of his valve while a third ghosted past his exterior node. The Autobot was foolish in thinking his position on his knees made him subservient, and he was bent to prove it. The game pushed on for several more kliks, the hardly suppressed grunts and groans rising in tempo and pitch, until finally Predaking slide a thumb up between his spike and valve and traced the hood if his external node and Ultra Magnus broke.

“Hurry,” he hissed, almost a whisper, “k-keep moving!”

Pulling his helm back, Predaking let his spike slide wetly from between his lips with a lewd slurp, grin just as sharp when slicked with oral solvent and prefluid.

“Do you want me to spike you, Autobot? Are you going to beg for me?”

Ultra Magnus grit his teeth and snarled, but the sound peter out into another breathy moan as Predaking allowed one thick digit to finally penetrate him, the internal nodes swollen and clinging to him.

“That is- that is beneath me!”

“Is it?”

He twisted his finger cruelly, letting the sharp tip cut a minute line in the mesh, and he felt his calipers ripple, imploringly, another gush of lubricant splashing across his palm.

“Ye-I-!”

He brought his thumb back to Ultra Magnus’s nub, this time sparing to expense as he circled round it, occasionally flicking across the top in quick, rough motions.

“You-you beast-!”

“I know what I am,” Predaking licked a long swatch up the bottom of Ultra Magnus’s spike, pleased to watch it twitch.

“Do you want me to spike you?”

Even between another mech’s thighs he held his helm with a regal bearing and the sight of it broke the last barrier of Ultra Magnus’s pride.

“Yes!” he moaned, “yes, yes of course!”

Predaking threw his thighs over his shoulders, again rising above his prey and pushing inside with no further pretense. The spread was intense and both of them gasped in open mouthed pleasure. Though his demeanor had been nothing but prideful and calm up until this point, his spike had been throbbing and now the beast was coming closer to the surface than before. With a snarl, Predaking launched into a vicious pattern of thrusting before either of them had fully recovered, lubricants already splattering between them.

It was all Ultra Magnus could do to hold onto the Predacon’s thighs, optics off lined in as he attempted to get ahold of himself. They had only fully interfaced a few times, the passion usually lost in snarling animalistic fingering and tussling, and he was still unused to the size. His calipers flared and contracted as they tried to get a good handle on its girth, the involuntary sensation making them both moan loudly.

“You call me a beast, and yet you submit yourself to me time and time again.”

Predaking spat the words between his clenched jaws, hips snapping in time with his speech.

“What does that make you, I wonder?”

Ultra Magnus could not express his reply in words, only a long open mouthed gasp as a particularly hard thrust ground against his ceiling node, stomach buckling in on itself as he was folded as tight as he could be. From this angle the gush of their combined fluids had nowhere to go but down and pooled along his aft and belly, hot and viscous. With his enemy seemingly subdued and submissive, Predaking had no qualms with releasing his hold, bracing himself against the ground and truly allowing himself to rut into the heat. Even consumed as he was, his kingly posture did not fail, the beast crouching over his kill.

Ultra Magnus bucked up, swearing softly.

“By the Pit, I-I’m close!”

Growling, triumphant, Predaking took that as the only encouraging he needed and bit into the Autobot’s neck, hard, mercilessly pounding his as he overloaded. Ultra Magnus yelled, both from the extra powerful rush of pleasure and from the pain, hips pistoning on their own five times before his own burst of release took him. Predaking was fertile as they all were in the old days and his transfluid spewed in thick, heavy streams to fill what little space in his valve that wasn’t already stuffed and pour down the rest, molten and satisfying to them both.

The remained connected only as long as they had to, both panting as they regained their bodies and sense of mind. Predaking pulled out slowly, the sword from its victim. Only Ultra Magnus had brought provisions to clean himself with, but Predaking had no conviction about displaying the signs of their battle before his kingdom. Besides, the clawing he had given the bot was more than enough proof that he had encountered an enemy. It would provide a cover for their more intimate intentions, and neither of them could be ashamed about having braved the fires of battle.

“The winner.”

Predaking turned, not having expected Ultra Magnus to speak again. While the beginnings of their meetings were always filled with vapid dialogue, it was unusual to even utter noise s they parted. Still sated and bleary, he turned to eye the other.

“What do you speak of now, fool?”

“Fool.”

Ultra Magnus shook his head as if in silent laughter. Amused but not buying it, Predaking turned on his seat a bit, watching.

“You asked me what I am to submit myself to you on repeated occasion,” Ultra Magnus stood, stretching his sore back, “and I was answering your question.

I am the winner.”

  


End file.
